The Road Home
by aMUSEment345
Summary: Post-ep to 9X24, Demons. Blake's decision prompts some soul-searching. One shot.


**The Road Home**

Technically, he knew he should be on leave. But he wasn't hooked up to any tubes or machines, he was only on oral antibiotics and he was upright. Walking around. Talking. He had some pain when he moved his neck, which was practically all the time, but it was reasonably well managed with ibuprofen. So, despite the others urging him not to, Reid was planning to go in to work tomorrow. The members of the BAU would be writing up their reports about Texas, all the while praying not to be called out again so soon. Reid had suffered the most physical assault, but all of them felt wounded by what had happened.

_Especially Blake. I wonder if Hotch knows._

Reid couldn't know that she'd texted their unit chief as the plane brought them back to Quantico. He'd been exhausted. Pain, blood loss, the effects of surgery and anesthesia…..and the terror of nearly being shot a second time, in his hospital bed, had all taken a toll on the young man. He'd readily followed JJ's direction to stretch out on the jet's long seat, and gratefully accepted the blanket she lay over him. He remembered nothing else of the flight, except being jostled by Garcia as they landed, and hearing Morgan's plan to carry him off the plane. That had been enough to get Reid quickly to his feet, in spite of the pain of sudden movement. To avoid Morgan planning to carry him to his apartment, Reid had accepted Blake's offer of a ride home.

He'd known even before she left him. He'd been surprised to hear about the son who'd been, and who was no longer, and then not all that surprised to hear that he'd reminded her of the boy. But it went beyond that. He'd seen it in her eyes. The weariness-of-life that shone through them. It was vaguely reminiscent of what he'd seen in Gideon's eyes, just before his unplanned departure. And Elle's. And, just two years ago, in the eyes of Emily Prentiss.

This job could change a person. Eyes once accustomed to looking outward could become inwardly focused. They could begin to examine the places where there was emptiness, or unfulfilled promise, or loss.

_I should know those eyes. I see them when I look in the mirror. _

For what was only the most recent of many times, Reid wondered what it was that kept him in the game. By any remotely objective standard, he should have walked away from the BAU long ago. If not when he'd been drugged and tortured by a dissociated psychotic, then maybe when he'd nearly died by coming too close to a mad scientist's scheme to infect the populace. Many would have understood if he'd seen the death of his unit chief's wife as damning evidence that life in the BAU was simply too dangerous. And, if not that, the nearly-successful attempt on the life of his beloved friend Emily might have become the turning point. And then, the most devastating loss of all. But he was still here. Why?

_Because I don't have anywhere else to go? Because the only real relationships I have are the ones with the others on the team? But that doesn't seem to stop _them_ from leaving. So why does it stop me?_

It was the kind of puzzle that might keep him up all night, ruminating. But his injury, and the surgery….and the terror of a second attempt on his life…..were melding together to cause an overwhelming need to sleep. Usually his world-weariness kept Reid awake. But tonight, he was both emotionally and physically depleted. Removing only his shoes, he fell over on his sofa and into a exhausted, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

"Spence! Are you in there? Spence!"

The pounding on his door triggered a sympathetic nervous system response, bringing Reid to full alert mode in the split of a second. He reflexively tried to leap up from the sofa, only to be met with a frightening stiffness in his neck and a shooting pain down his right arm. It was enough to stop him in place and make him cry out, which increased the assault on his door.

"Spence! Are you all right?"

Fallen back to the sofa, he tried to catch the breath that had been taken away by the unexpected surge of pain. _Let's try that again, slowly, shall we?_ He rolled to his left side and used his good arm to push himself up, all without moving his neck.

"Spence!"

His first attempt at a reply came out as an inaudible croak. Reid cleared his throat and tried again.

"Coming. I'm coming, JJ. Just give me a second, okay?" _I just got shot in the neck._

He made his way gingerly across the floor, shuffling his feet for fear of jarring his neck again. One experience with referred pain was enough for him. Finally at the door, he began releasing the locks. He was thankful for his quick synaptic responsiveness when he saw the knob turning from the outside, and knew enough to step backwards.

"Spence! Are you okay? We were worried when you didn't come in this morning." She began looking him up and down, stopping at his neck.

"When I didn't...?"

That was when he looked at the watch he'd never removed from his wrist last night. The hands told him it was approaching noon.

"Oh, wow... I must have slept right through! I need to call Hotch and apologize."

He started patting his pockets, in a vain search for his cell. "Where did I put it?"

"Spence, we've been calling you for hours. No, scratch that, _I've_ been calling you since last night. I wanted to make sure you didn't need anything. I guess now I can see why you didn't answer."

He started to assure her with, "Blake brought me home last night…" but it brought him up short, remembering how their time together had ended.

JJ didn't notice the change in his mood. "I knew she was doing that, but…you know. I was just worried."

In spite of himself, and his knowledge of the loss of Alex, Reid smiled. "Thanks. But I was okay. It's just that I fell asleep out here…", he indicated the couch, "…and then I had a little trouble getting up when I heard you at the door."

"Are you okay now? Do you have pain?"

He almost shrugged, but the movement began to jostle his neck, and he stopped abruptly.

"Not if I don't move."

That was enough for JJ to go into immediate fix-it mode. "Then let's sit you down over on the sofa. I'll help you."

He knew better. "How about I just sit at the table. I think I'm better on a hard chair….you know, easier to get up."

She studied him, and the small pub table in the corner. The tall stools would require less movement on his part. "All right. Sit down there." She headed for his small kitchen, calling behind her, "I'm guessing you didn't have anything to eat yet."

He'd been about to tell her he wasn't all that hungry when he heard the clatter of plates and pans. She'd commandeered his kitchen a couple of times before. When he'd been shot in the knee, and again, when he'd been wounded in his heart with the loss of Maeve, JJ had insisted on coming over and creating a microwaveable feast for him. From those experiences, Reid knew better than to try to stop her.

"Do you want something for the pain?" she called from the kitchen.

"I'm okay."

He'd said it so softly that she came into the room, drying her hands on the towel.

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you."

"I said I'm okay. It's not bad if I don't move."

She gave him a look. "And you plan not to move for the rest of the day?"

She had a point. "All right. There are some ibuprofen in the bathroom."

It seemed no time at all before she was handing him the pills and a glass of water. In true maternal fashion, she made sure to watch him swallow his medication.

"Okay. You should be feeling better in twenty minutes or so."

She went back into the kitchen, emerging a few moments later with a plate of eggs and toast. Reid wasn't at all sure he had the stomach for the food, but there was another aroma filling the air, and that one was calling to him.

"Do I smell coffee?"

JJ sat across from him at the elevated table. "You can have some after you've taken a few bites."

Reid loved JJ. He really did. Even when she was in 'maternal mode'. Sometimes especially then. But to come between a man and his coffee… Suddenly, he felt a fresh wave of empathy for Henry. Mama Bear JJ could be controlling.

"The next time I see him, I'm taking my godson for ice cream." S_o there. Solidarity._

She looked an 'oh really' at him before conceding. "Okay, you're right. I'm being too bossy. It's just that I know you too well, Spence. Left to yourself, you won't do what it takes to get better."

On the surface of it, what she'd said was true. Reid wasn't particularly noted for his good nutrition or fitness regimens. But he _had_ conquered an addiction on his own, and he'd recovered from a gunshot wound to the knee while the team had been consumed with finding the Reaper after he'd nearly killed Hotch. Reid had even managed to heal from being shot by the woman who'd killed Maeve while he was busy rejecting all of his teammates' overtures of kindness. Of course he knew how to get better. Or, maybe, he just knew how _not_ to die while time, and benign neglect, did their work. Maybe dying was just too much work.

JJ's voice interrupted Reid's rumination.

"He says 'hi', by the way. And he wants you to get better 'really, really fast!" JJ finished the sentence in her best Henry voice.

Reid was surprised. "You told him about me?"

"I just told him you had a boo-boo. I had to. He caught me….."

He realized she'd stopped herself mid-sentence. "Caught you…what do you mean?"

She looked embarrassed, but she answered. "He caught me crying."

He squinted at her, genuinely not understanding. "Why were you crying?"

She gave him a sad smile. "You scared me, Spence. I thought we might lose you. You were so badly hurt, and there was so much blood…and I thought, what if I never see him again? What if I never get to hear him tell me some improbable fact, or pitch some wild theory that turns out to be right? What if I never get to tell him….." She stopped, swallowed, and changed direction. "What if Henry never gets to see him again? What if he has to grow up without knowing his godfather?"

All traces of annoyance disappeared as Reid looked his love at his best friend. Theirs was the kind of love that usually went unstated. It was the kind that tolerated idiosyncracy, that celebrated each other's triumphs and shared each other's woes. To have it put into words was rare, and Reid knew enough to cherish it. But he was unused to this type of exchange, even with JJ. So he reverted to form and tried to make light of it.

"Not to worry. Henry's a natural. He'll get into Cal Tech on his own."

She smiled as she reprimanded him. "Stop! You know what I mean. Seriously, Spence. it got to me. I guess I started to realize how much I take for granted." She gave herself a derisive snort. "You'd think, in this business especially, I'd know better. Every day we deal with somebody who's experienced a loss. Somebody who assumed there would always be a tomorrow with their loved one."

He nodded. "Until they ran out of tomorrows." As had happened to him, with Maeve. He knew it exactly.

"See, you get it." Then it hit her _why_ he understood. "Oh, God, I can be so stupid. Of course you get it. Spence, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…."

His upraised palm stopped her. "I know you didn't. And it's all right. For what it's worth, you're right. I kept putting off telling Maeve I loved her, waiting for the right time….only to find out that the right time was long behind me."

JJ was immediately back in caretaker mode. "She knew you loved her, Spence. It doesn't always need words." _Like with us._

JJ's subconscious mocked her. _You were frightened that he might die without your telling him how much you care, and why. And now you're telling him it isn't necessary. Which is it, woman?_

She tuned out her own psyche, and concentrated on the words Reid was speaking.

"Henry isn't worried, is he?"

"I told him you had a great big band-aid to show him, but that you were in good hands with Blake. Speaking of whom….she made sure you got into your apartment, didn't she?"

It was evident in her tone. _If she brought you home, why didn't she make sure you were comfortably tucked into bed? I would have._

The subject of Blake was a tender one for Reid, although JJ could have no way of knowing. He considered his words before he spoke. JJ could see that some work was going into his response, but didn't understand why.

"She did. But she didn't stay long. I think she wanted to get home to James."

"James? I didn't know he was in town. She didn't mention anything."

"It sounded like he'd just arrived when we were called out. I…it sounded like he was wanting to look at a new house for them to live in…together."

"Together? Is he moving back to DC? He's only been at that job in Boston for..what…..a semester?"

Reid watched for her reaction as he responded in his quiet voice.

"I don't know that it was in DC."

For a few seconds, it went right past JJ. "But how would she commute…oh."

He gave a grim nod. "Yeah. Oh."

With some difficulty, Reid rose from his stool and shuffled across to the table that held his messenger bag. He rooted around in it until he found what he wanted.

"She left this in my bag."

JJ saw at once that it was Blake's badge and credentials.

"She quit?" Not sure if she was shocked, or scandalized…..or admiring.

"Was she at the BAU today?"

JJ realized she'd ignored the obvious. Because it was anything but.

"No. But….I guess I thought she was just taking a personal day, since she knew we would be standing down. I should have known it was more than that."

"How could you have?"

"Because. When you were in the OR, I spent a few minutes with her. She was very shaken. Well, I guess I was too, like I said. But….now that you've told me…..I guess I can't help but wonder if she'd already decided. I didn't read it right, but there was a hint of…resignation, maybe….in her voice. I knew it was something, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. And I was a little distracted. Well, more than little." She gave him that sad smile again.

Reid returned it. "She had a son. Did you know that?"

"What? No!" Realizing, after the fact, that she'd had more grounds for bonding with this colleague she'd never gotten to know all that well.

"Ethan. He had a condition. A neurologic problem, something without a name." His gaze moved to the tabletop as he recalled every word of their exchange. "It drove her crazy not to have a name for it, some sort of linguist's hell, I guess. Anyway, he died, when he was only nine years old. She flashed on him when she was with me after I got shot. I don't remember all that much, but I do remember being conscious for a few minutes, and she was calling me Ethan. So I asked her who he was, and she told me."

"And that's why she wants to leave? I don't understand."

"I spent a good amount of time last night trying to figure it out. On the surface of it, the most obvious thing is that she sees some similarities between her son and me….I think she may have felt that way about me, anyway, even before this..…and she couldn't stay in a business where she could lose Ethan all over again…even if it was really me she was losing."

"On the surface?"

He nodded. "This is what kept me up a good part of the night. When I thought about it, it kind of made sense that she would leave. I mean, who wouldn't? And then I realized...me. I wouldn't. I started out trying to figure out why Blake was leaving….but then I spent most of the time trying to figure out why I wasn't. Why I seem to choose to stay with the team."

JJ had been through a similar exercise countless times since the happy accident of Henry. Genuinely wanting to know, _needing_ to know, she urged him. "What did you come up with?"

He could only shrug…and then immediately wince in pain. There hadn't been time for the ibuprofen to be absorbed yet.

"I don't know that I've ever really made the choice. It's more like I just keep postponing the decision. In many ways, it's easier to keep coming to work, and to keep up with the status quo, than it would be to stop. To actually resign, and find something else to do with my life."

JJ was earnest. "So you think we're just basically lazy? That it would take too much to leave, so we go ahead and stay?"

He wasn't sure. The thought had crossed his mind as well. But so had another.

"I can only speak for me. But I think I'm like Blake in some ways. When she takes stock of her life, and the relationships that make it worth living, it takes her outside the BAU. What's most important to her is the connection she has with her husband. Maybe the shared loss of their son contributed to that, who knows? For me, when I take stock…it's the relationships within the BAU that make the difference in my life."

_Now, anyway. They're practically all I have left.  
_

She knew him too well, knew exactly where his thoughts had gone. "I wish it had been different, Spence. Really."

"I know. Thanks."

JJ sat back in her seat, thinking about what he'd said.

"Hmm. I guess I haven't quite considered it that way. But, if I had to… it's a little bit of both, I think. Henry, of course….there's no question about that. But, after Henry…..I guess it's pretty even for me. I love Will, but I love all of you as well. Does that make me shallow? That I can't make that choice?"

Reid thought JJ was anything but shallow. He'd spent much of their friendship unwrapping her many layers, until he'd seen depths that were hidden to others. Still he took his time considering her question, until he'd reached a conclusion._  
_

"Maybe it's a false choice. Maybe the decision is more about how you want your life to matter, and not about whom or what you love more. Love doesn't have to be measured, does it?"

She was caught off guard by that, by his unwitting targeting of something that so often troubled her. Ever since Henry had come into being, and she'd acquired the new role of 'mother', JJ had struggled to integrate it with the rest of her life. But 'mother' and 'supervisory special agent' weren't roles that integrated easily. More days than not, JJ felt the tension between them, the sense of never being quite as fully present as she should be, to either role.

Now, Spence was saying that she shouldn't be in conflict. That measuring one aspect of who she was against another wasn't necessary. That it wasn't about whether she loved her job, or her family, or her friends more. It was about how she wanted her life to make a difference. And that was a question she _could_ answer.

"Maybe you're right. The one thing I'm sure of, in all of this, is that I want Henry to grow up well, to be a good person. I want him to be someone with a sense of service. I want to make sure that he cares more about people than about things. And that requires sacrifice, doesn't it?"

"It does."

"So, even though we have to give up some of our time together, maybe I'm giving him something else."

"What?"

"An example. Just like the one his father shows him, and his godfather."

Reid smiled. "It's funny. I always feel like he's setting an example for me."

"How?"

"He shows me how to make the most of the smallest things. If anyone knows how to seize a day, it's Henry. I don't think you have to worry about him making his life count. As far as I'm concerned, he's already accomplished that."

JJ knew she wasn't done struggling with the dichotomies in her life. But this conversation had definitely made her feel better. Magnanimous, even.

"One more bite, and I'll bring your coffee."

* * *

He'd just settled in with a book when his doorbell rang again. Since JJ's departure hours ago, Reid had managed another nap and a bowl of soup. And he'd texted her about each of them, as he'd promised he would.

By now, he'd figured out exactly how to raise and lower himself from the couch with a minimum of pain. His gait was still impaired, but he managed a quick shuffle to the door. He was caught off guard when he opened it.

"Hotch….what are you doing here?"

"Looking in on one of my agents. May I come in?"

"Uh….oh…of course. Come on in."

_What now? Am I in trouble?_

"Um…..would you like something to drink?"

Aaron Hotchner was all business. Sometimes, it was as though he didn't know how to be social, just like his resident genius. This was one of those times, and the ineptness of the pair made for an awkward exchange.

"I don't need anything. And I won't stay long."

"Oh..okay. Well, would you like to si…"Then realizing his unit chief was already seated.

Hotch waved Reid to the sofa across from the chair he occupied, the guest turning the table on the host.

"Sit down, Reid."

The genius obeyed. "Is something wrong?"

Hotch was a driven individual. As often happened, his self-awareness of this lagged behind his other interactions. Now, it caught up.

"I'm sorry. I should have asked. How are you doing?"

Reid was as expert as deflecting as was his unit chief.

"I'm fine. Hotch, is something wrong?"

The senior profiler got to the point, his eyes earnest below his furrowed brow.

"Did Blake speak to you?"

_Oh._

"She didn't tell me anything. Not anything about leaving, anyway. She just…." He pushed off from the sofa again, and again dug around in his messenger bag. "She left this." He handed the credentials to his boss.

Hotch took the badge wallet from him. "And she didn't tell you why?"

"She didn't say anything at all about leaving. But….I knew. I could just tell."

"How?"

Reid told the story about Blake, and her son, and how she'd flashed back on his death.

"She didn't say it, specifically. But I had the sense that she was just tired of it all. Tired of the loss. She wanted to focus on something else, something better. To tell you the truth, she got me thinking about it, too."

It was out before he could stop it. And, in truth, maybe he didn't want to stop it. Reid couldn't have articulated why he wanted Aaron Hotchner to know about his dilemma…but he did. He knew he trusted his unit chief completely, trusted his judgment, trusted his motivation….trusted _him_. Despite his close relationships with some of the others, Reid had no more reliable sounding board than the man sitting across from him.

Hotch was a master of the straight face. If he was shocked to hear that his resident genius might be considering leaving the team, he didn't show it. He simply encouraged him to speak.

"I'm listening."

There had been no hint of admonishment in his tone, but Reid hurried to explain anyway.

"It's not that I'm thinking of leaving. Not actively, anyway. It's just that….I guess it's that I've been trying to figure out why I've _stayed_. You know, while others haven't. I mean, it would have been understandable …..maybe even expected….if I'd decided to leave after Tobias Henkel, wouldn't it? Or after the anthrax? Maybe not so much the knee injury….that wasn't particularly life-threatening. But the only time I ever even considered leaving was after Georgia. And that was mostly because I thought I'd changed too much to do the job, because I was using….."

He cut himself off before he could compromise his unit chief by admitting the addiction that had gone unreported to their superiors.

"Well, anyway, it was more because I thought I wasn't good for the job than because I thought the job wasn't good for me. And yet…Gideon left. And Elle. Even Emily. And now Blake."

The two men shared a moment of silence in honor of those who'd left them, for whatever reasons it had happened. Neither would ever judge another about walking away from the work they did. It was gruesome, and taxing, and it wasn't for everyone. Not for long.

Hotch looked away before replying, as though in search of the right words.

"You're right. There are probably more reasons to go than to stay. And I wouldn't think less of you if you made that decision, by the way." Hotch made certain that Reid processed those words before he continued.

"But people like us….you, me, JJ, Morgan, Rossi….. we already know the dark side of life. We've lived it, in one way or another. And we become determined not to have anyone else live it unnecessarily. So we choose the fight."

"But don't the others make the same choice? And yet, they walk away. I'm just trying to understand, Hotch. Why do I stay?"

His unit chief recognized that Reid was struggling with both an intellectual question and an existential one. A question to which he had no definitive answer. But he did have a theory.

Hotch sat back from his hunched-over position. A trained observer would have noted that he was fully exposing himself in doing so.

"I don't know if it's the same for everyone, Reid. But I think it might be similar for the two of us. You and I...we know a particular kind of loss. The kind that we try to prevent every day. For us, it's not theoretical. It's intimate. We both know what it feels like to lose control of a situation. To not be able to help someone we desperately want to help."

Reid's eyes dropped to the floor in memory of that godforsaken moment a little over a year ago, and the other one he'd tried so hard not to hear, several years back. The lives of both Haley and Maeve had been taken with their loved ones as witness.

"To feel responsible..." he muttered. The he turned his eyes back to Hotch. "But, how…"

"I think it puts us into an exclusive group. Maybe it's not a group one _seeks_ membership in. But we're in it. We're the people who know, because we've experienced it. And we're in a position to keep it from happening to others. It motivates us."

Reid was silent for a long moment, processing. "So, you're saying we stay because we know what the pain is like, and we want to protect others from feeling it?"

Hotch raised his brow in affirmation, as Reid took it further.

"We're already in pain, and we can't stop it, no matter what we do. But we can try to keep it from happening to anyone else."

Now Hotch was silent, staring at the young man in front of him. The one who should have still felt his youth, but often didn't. The older man tried to impart some hope.

"It _can_ stop, Reid. One day, it will. Even if you don't want it to." He spoke with the voice of experience.

Reid's eyes shifted from the floor, to Hotch, and back again. They were approaching territory others had tried to inhabit with him, and he'd rejected each prior attempt. But he recognized that Hotch had visited that territory on his own, long before Maeve's death. And he respected his senior immensely, both as an agent and as a man. Maybe, just maybe, there _was_ a way out.

"So, it's kind of like a journey? We keep moving forward, doing what we do, sometimes we walk with someone on the way, sometimes we say goodbye to them, when they need to get off the road?"

Hotch went along with the metaphor.

"Not goodbye, Reid. Farewell. At some point, we each need to find our own way. Right now, Blake is finding her way out of what has become a wilderness for her, just like the others did. But you'll see her again, and when you do…."

"She'll have found her way home."

"Something like that," agreed Hotch. He rose slowly, straightening his slacks as he did. Before he started for the door, he addressed Reid once again.

"Take the weekend. If you're not feeling better by Monday, we'll arrange a medical leave. Otherwise…."

"Otherwise, I'll be back on Monday morning. Hotch…..thanks."

The unit-chief-of-few-words simply nodded and let himself out. Left alone, Reid sank back to the sofa and rewound the entire conversation. His mind stayed on the idea of being lost in the wilderness, and finding one's way home.

_Blake is finding her way. All she really needed was to realize where...or who...'home' was. For me, that's not so easy. I thought I'd found a home, only to lose it again. Maybe that's why I stay on the journey. Maybe, for some of us, the road _is_ home. And family are those who walk with us along the way._


End file.
